


The Good Nuisance

by 34_SpaceStreet



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: But he doesn't know it's him, Friends to Annoyance to Lovers, Geralt being his brooding self, It's more about their friendship anyway, Jaskier comes back after their fight to piss Geralt off, M/M, REEEVEEENGEEE, Shapeshifter!Jaskier, Shapeshifting, after 1x06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23449207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/34_SpaceStreet/pseuds/34_SpaceStreet
Summary: OS. It's been weeks since the dragon's hunt and Geralt is just riding by himself, living with Roach as he did many years before... Until a Great Red Hawk stops him on his way.  Shapeshifter!Jaskier, but that, Geralt doesn't know. Wink wink.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 272





	The Good Nuisance

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. I have insomnia and when an idea sticks, it just does. I wrote that for fun. Never played the game, I just watched the tv show and had fun writing that... Isn't it what fanfiction is all about?
> 
> Leave a comment if that made you feel any type of way or if I made big grammar mistakes that made you puke (I'm french, les ami.e.s). Enjoy and have a great day, friends.
> 
> Take care! ;)

“Word got ‘round that you been dead by the dragon, Witcher. How come you here in me tavern?”

“What?” Geralt asked, half-interested. 

“The song ‘bout the dead Wolf-Witcher, something. Aye, it rang like ‘between the dragon’s teeth, the Witcher guts, got got got’. Quite catchy. Bit disappointed you ain’t dead in a way.” The tavern owner said, giving him his ale.

It took a second for Geralt to understand Jaskier must have been mad at him and wrote the song. He finished his drink, leaving, his eyes rolling. 

Geralt was ready to find a quiet spot and sleep the night away when he was stopped by the biggest bird he had ever seen. And the weirdest. Simply sitting on Roach’s back, this big hawk had a bright red feathering. Geralt shooed it right away, but was mostly surprised Roach didn’t do it before him. She never let another animal ride him, she barely tolerated him on her back. 

In no time, Roach and him found a nice mossy place close to a forest to sleep and build a fire. But sleeping, Geralt did not. A stupid bird kept singing all night and as soon as the Witcher thought it was over, the bird - the red hawk he presumed - started again with a scream that almost sounded human. At dawn, Geralt got up, irritated like never before, ready to destroy that damn tweet. Ready to burn that goddamn bird. And as soon as he got up… total silence. As if the hawk waited this very moment to shut it. 

“Well, some fucking silence. Been a while, huh, Roach? Jaskier and that fucking bird would’ve gotten along.” He said bitterly as he pet her as a form of ‘good morning’. 

Merely a second later, the bird shit all over his white hair and armor.

…

As he stepped into the next tavern on his way, he didn’t wait for the owner to call him out.

“Yeah, I’m alive, I know.” He said, asking for his drink quickly after.

“Oh, we know,” the tavernist and his wife said before she continued, “they say you got beat up by a gang of dwarfs and that they stole from you and that a woman laughed at you. Isn’t it right, Devlin?” She asked her husband.

“Oh yeah, and they say you cried. A lot.” Devling added, giving him his ale.

“They didn’t.” The Witcher denied, his eyebrows frowned. "I didn't."

“But that how the song goes and the songs aren’t never wrong, are they, Kwel?” The tavern owner exclaimed, a bit confused.

“For sure they ain’t, love!” She agreed, smiling at him.

Geralt simply grunted and went further away to drink his alcohol, alone. And that’s when he noticed it. His mind waiting for the music to start. For the lute to begin, for Jaskier to sing with too much confidence, with too much fun for his tough crowd. But he always made it to Geralt and he had always appreciated it in a way. Everyone didn’t look at him weird anymore, they looked at this fool singing his heart out. And, slowly but surely, the public seemed to be happier, in a way that they didn’t even notice themselves. That’s what Jaskier called ‘The Good Nuisance’ Effect. And in nights like tonight, when everyone kept glancing and people barely muttered to one another with gloomy eyes, Geralt’s mind was waiting for something that wasn’t gonna happen.

The next day, as he was on a hunt for an alghoul, he found himself talking to Roach and he felt delighted to share the simple exchange.

“So he’s mad.” He said with his deep voice. “If he thinks a bad publicity will do me anything. You and I both know he needed me more than-”

And the alghoul got him by the legs, dragging him in the moonless night, its claws going bonedeep in the Witcher’s leg. Its shriek echoed with Geralt’s surprised shout. The alghoul was tearing his pants and skin when Geralt finally reached for his sword to cut its fucking arm off. Just before it could cut skin, the alghoul retreated, screaming with amusement all around him. Geralt barely had time to go into Witcher mode before he saw the same great red hawk completely cut the alghoul’s neck with his claws in one quick attack.

Geralt stayed there, frozen and out of breath. Only when he saw the alghoul dead on the floor and the bird out of sight did he wince in pain, looking at his legs with exasperation. 

He couldn’t go fetch anything too far for the night, so he bandaged himself with what he had and, immediately after, looked at his last rations of food, taking the more succulent piece of dried meat he could find. He felt a bit ridiculous, especially with such a witness as Roach, but she had seen worse than him calling out for a dumb bird.

“Hum. Hey?” He said before feeling stupid again. He also felt like Roach scoffed. “I’m trying, alright? Hum, Bird? Red Bird? Want some food? I owe you that much, even if I would’ve been fine, but…” He rolled his eyes again at his own words. What was he doing? Giving away his best food for an animal that didn’t even know what he was doing and was probably far away now.

But a loud ‘pouf’ was heard and the red hawk was in front of him, behind the small fire. It looked as if it was sizing him. 

“That’s a thank you. Don’t make a big thing out of it.” Geralt told him, still holding the piece of meat.

The bird dramatically walked slowly towards him, still eying him suspiciously. He walked around the fire to meet him and extended his neck as much as possible to be as far away as possible when he took the food. He closed his beck around it, but Geralt didn’t let go so he did. But he didn’t move back, he seemed completely unafraid.

“You want to leave me as quickly as possible too, huh?” Geralt asked, his mood dropping.

The hawk tilted his head, confused. 

“Nothing.” Geralt said as he tossed the meat away from him and closer to the bird.

And he didn’t want to know if the bird would stay or not so he laid down, back to the fire. 

When he woke up the next day, it was more or less the same. And the next day too. And the next as well. He stared at nothing. Felt nothing. Ate nothing. Thought of nothing as much as possible. The only thing that got him to get up was that he knew Roach couldn’t live on grass only and that she was probably tired to stay within a meter of this blob that he was. So he went to the next village, as he did all his life. 

“You just missed ya bard, lad.” The shopkeeper told him.

“When?” He asked with more emotion than he’d like.

“Why, yesterday, I think.” She answered, taking the cash for the food the Witcher bought.

“Where was he heading?” Geralt asked, with a bit more of disinterest.

“I don’t know, north, I guess. He came from the south, that’s all I could tell.”

And he immediately made it back to Roach, not even stopping for an ale. He quickly gave her a carrot, grateful she put up with his lower mood. And up they were. Going north! Only an hour later did Geralt stop himself. Roach complained about the sudden stop.

“I just. I can’t really see him again, can I? He’ll be mad, I know he’s mad. And I guess he’s right. So, I guess there’s no point really. What do you think?” He asked her. “You’re right, we didn’t do all this way for nothing, you’re right. But I can’t meet him, alright? I won’t.”

She gave him the biggest ‘bitch please’ eyes Geralt had ever seen on her. So he said nothing more and pretended he wasn’t exactly heading north. 

An hour later, the red hawk came back and gently landed on Roach’s back as if he did so many times before. He gave Geralt a quick _chwirk_.

“Hey, you too.” Geralt told him, feeling better in a way he didn’t understand how.

…

The first town north was a bit further than he’d thought but he made it there in less than two days.

“Nay, I didn’t see your mate. I heard you were-”

“Dead, I know.” Geralt said with bigger disappointment than he thought he’d feel.

“Nay, sad.” The tavernist whispered to him so the others wouldn’t hear. “They say you just alone all the time. That it makes you sad.”

Geralt froze, expecting everything but this.

“I’m not.” He denied furiously, feeling anger rise.

“Sure, lad. Just take this one, it’s on me.” He said, handing him a drink.

“I’m fine!”

“Of course you are, just take care, alright?” The man said as he went to serve other clients.

He took it anyway. A free drink was still a free drink.

And he waited. But no music was played that night. And the bird didn’t show up that night. So he said good night to Roach and tried to remember times where it was enough.

…

There had been no missions in weeks until word got out an older lady saw a shapeshifter in her backyard. Normally, Geralt wouldn’t go for a trail so thin, but he had nothing to do than wait for something he didn’t want to wait about. So he went to talk to her. The locals were starting to know him, anyway.

When he came to her house, she was out gardening and even if she was less than half of his size (she probably was half-dwarf), she welcomed him with a smile.

“Wellick told me you’d be coming, Witcher.”

“Who’s Wellick?” Geralt asked, already on his guards.

“The tavern owner, of course. He also told me you were sad, do you want something to eat or-”

“No!” He shouted before restraining himself. “I’m fine, thank you. So, you saw a shapeshifter? How can you tell it was two different people?”

She laughed.

“I might be old, Witcher, but I can tell the difference between a bird and a young man.”

Geralt almost choked on his own saliva.

“A bird? He shapeshifted from an animal to a human? What kind of bird?”

And he fucking prayed it wasn’t what he thought it was.

“Oh yes, a great big crimson bird.”

“Fuck, a red bird?” Geralt exclaimed, holding his face with his hand, exhausted already. 

“Aye, a crimson bird.” She said, concerned for the taller man.

“A fucking big red bird?” He asked again, hoping the answer would be different.

“No need to fucking swear, but it was ‘a fucking big red bird’.” She said, a bit more upset. “And then it was no more. T’was a young fellow, brown hair. He looked like a thief if you’d ask me.”

Geralt breathed ‘fuck’, but nodded to the old lady. “Of course he did.” He added. “Well, thank you so much for the information, I’ll get him don’t you worry.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, you look-”

“I’m fine!” He screamed at the nice old lady before getting back to his campment, just a bit out of the village.

“Hey, seen the bird, I really gotta talk to him.” He exclaimed to Roach as he arrived, still pissed off.

“For someone who claims to love silence, you sure love talking to animals, you know?” Jaskier, behind his back, said.

“Well, for someone who can’t fucking shut up, you sure can hide a lot.” Geralt replied.

"Was I really? Or did you just look away at all the evidence? A bit _sad_ you got played, are you, Geralt?"

Geralt scoffed before sizing Jaskier back. 

"You don't sound like yourself. How can I know you're Jaskier?"

The smaller man laughed, putting his hands on his hips. 

"What's funny?" Geralt asked, his voice deeper, feeling a type of rage and adrenaline rising. 

Jaskier's eyes cut him sharp. 

"That you'd be so blind to not recognize me for feeling something different. As anyone ever been mad at you before? Not _afraid_ or _thinking_ that you're in the way, just genuinely mad at you… personally!"

Geralt said nothing. A part of him still didn't believe it was Jaskier who was in front of him. He truly looked changed! His posture seemed taller, his facial, colder, and his eyes, hateful. He didn't recognize him like this. He felt all of his previous rage fall in the pit of his stomach. 

"That's a no? It's just because no one cared enough before to be legitimately disappointed by you!" Jaskier screamed, his entire body stiff by emotions. 

Only at the second silence he faced did Jaskier seem to understand what he was saying. 

"That's pointless, isn't it? Coming here, playing with you? You really don't feel anything. You don't care." Jaskier said, not looking at him anymore, disgusted at himself. "I mean why would a Witcher befriend a bard, or a shapeshifter or just a lonely guy? You don't like me and I'm a burden to you, you said it yourself. I- Fuck! Am I making it worse, the weight, now? I'm sorry."

Only then could Geralt be sure. His eyes seemed to open. Jaskier was pleading him, begging him, to tell him otherwise… or to tell him the truth. So Geralt sighed deeply, ready to tell Jaskier what he really thought of him. 

"You're so pathetically good. Why would you care if I liked having you around or not? I'm a piece of shit of a friend."

Jaskier pointed at him as if he was gonna deny it, but caught himself in his movement and stopped, probably trying to still be mad. 

"You're so happy and loud all the time, why do you hang out with me? Roach, I'd understand-"

"She _is_ a riot." Jaskier granted.

"-But me? My life consist of trying to not die by another monster next week."

" _My_ feelings were never the ones in question."

"I'm supernatural, if I wanted you out of my life, I'd just break you like a twig." Geralt grunted, tired of having to come up with excuses. 

"Try me." Jaskier scoffed. 

Geralt's eyes turned in Witcher mode for a second. 

"No, c'mon, big guy, you said you wanted me out weeks ago, I'm just giving you the opportunity." Jaskier said, shaking.

Geralt looked at him, up and down, and laughed. 

"What are you gonna do? Shit on me again?" The Witcher said. 

Jaskier came closer to him. 

"Wouldn't you like to know what I'm capable of? Aren't you angry I hid it all from you?" The smaller man asked him, before doing circles around him. 

"Whatever you're doing, it's not gonna work." Geralt said, knowing it to be a trap. 

"I know you've been dying to hit me."

"I'm serious, Jaskier, you're gonna get hurt."

"Oh, look at me," Jaskier mimicked, "I'm Geralt and I caaaaaare."

So Geralt hit him on the shoulder. Or, at least, he thought he did. But Jaskier dodged it with a laugh and hit him on his side. It didn't hurt per se, but it did fire him up instinctively. He instantly pushed the smaller man on the ground, blocking any attempt to get back up.

“You said I was dead.” Geralt accused.

Jaskier still wiggled his way around, trying to get the upper hand again.

“I was angry!”

“You said I got beat up.”

“In a way, you did!” Jaskier said, his fingers turning into claws, digging into the Witcher’s arm.

Geralt cried in pain. “You told them I was sad!” He screamed again, trying to prove how worse it was.

Jaskier stopped everything to smile at him.

“I prefer not to lie.” He said, smug.

And his legs, now goat’s hooves, smacked the Witcher’s legs so he collapsed on Jaskier who took this moment to get the upper hand and put himself on Geralt, blocking him from the time being. He also got his original form back.

“You lied about your shapeshifting and all your fucking feelings for me.” Geralt said, a bit unfocused by the pain.

Jaskier looked dramatically shocked. His mouth kept opening as if to say something but didn’t.

“So, when are you gonna kiss me,” Geralt said with a sigh, “‘cause I’m tired of waiting.”

And an even deeper look of shock made its way to Jaskier’s face. But he’d be damn if he’d miss such an opportunity. He quickly closed the gap between them and as he touched the other’s rough lips, he could feel his entire body melt, as if every nerve suddenly liquified. Jaskier could taste Geralt’s smile so he made it his mission to-

Geralt used this moment of weakness to reverse the roles and tackle Jaskier once again, being on top. The bard had difficulty being mad about that low tactic for he only wanted to close the space again and kiss him like he waited so long to do.

“You won.” Jaskier breathed.

“I did, yeah.” And Geralt gave him a peck on the lips, just to tease him once more.

He saw Jaskier’s blush and smile and started to remember all those years they spent together. Jaskier never got seriously hurt and they always helped one another, even through all their annoyances. Actually, everything was great before Geralt said all that stuff on the mountain.

“So maybe I won’t lose you.” Geralt whispered, thinking about Renfri and all the others who died because of him.

“If you stop hurting the people you actually like, yeah, maybe you won’t.” Jaskier said with sass, his eyes rolling.

So Geralt punched him on the arm.

“Ouch! See?” Jaskier exclaimed, pointing at his arm.

Geralt smiled as he always did : slightly.

They both got up.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt finally admitted, trying to seem strong while looking at the ground like a little kid.

Jaskier gasped. “Alright, I was gonna say you owe me one, but I know how big this is for you. It’s fine, we’re even.”

“You shit on me.” Geralt replied, frowning his brows.

“Don’t push your luck, Witcher.” Jaskier warned, passing a hand on his dusty clothes.

And as they stood there, silence made its way in. They didn’t quite know what to do anymore.

“So, about that shapeshifting business.” Geralt started.

“So, about that kiss thing.” Jaskier replied with the same tone.

They both smiled as they looked at each other.

“I guess we have some things to talk about. Wanna walk with me for a bit?” Geralt asked politely.

“I guess I could make some time for you.” Jaskier replied, trying to sound disinterested. 

“Thank you.” Geralt whispered.

“It’s my pleasure, Geralt.”


End file.
